


Pas de deux

by coffecolors



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Ballet Dancer Kim Jongin | Kai, Drug Abuse, Drug Use, Gen, Jongin-centered, Jongin’s Birthday Week 2021, Obsessive Behavior, Suicide Attempt, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:26:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29836686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffecolors/pseuds/coffecolors
Summary: She wanted him to stay.

But Jongin wanted to leave.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 6
Collections: Challenge #14 — We Artist Baby!





	Pas de deux

**Author's Note:**

> Pas de deux: "Dance for two" —Fundamentals of Ballet, Dance 10AB, Professor Sheree King

_He hears nothing_

_He feels nothing_

_And yet he never felt so full_

_Free_

_Unchained_

* * *

Sometimes having a broken heart didn’t mean someone broke it. 

On occasions, it was _something_.

Dancing was his life. 

Moving along with the music was his purpose. 

Their relationship was healthy, blooming from a young age, pure loving.

He would dance for anything, for everything. 

For contentment and pleasure, for distress and concerns, for sorrow and wrath.  
  


He always knew what he wanted and he committed to his dream like no one else; dancing everywhere, getting inspiration from the sound of rain or old songs his dad used to listen to on the radio.

Jongin would dance until his feet hurt or his limbs were too sore to even move.

At twelve, he found true love.

What would a lonely boy do, if not to accept warmth and affection? 

With not much to provide, he offered genuine devotion.

Ballet was its… _her_ name.

Their relationship was far from perfect. 

Ballet was never satisfied—too tall, too thin, too overweight. Jongin could never meet her demands. Strict and firm, Jongin always found himself embracing everything, accepting whatever came with it. 

Jongin underestimated the power of a broken heart. 

Poor, naive boy.

He was too invested, too in love, engulfed in her painful beauty.

During an ugly fight, Ballet broke one of Jongin’s ankles just a week before the most important performance of the year. He was only fifteen.

Ballet didn’t care. She slapped him on the face, claiming that he would never achieve what they were expecting of him, that there was no point in keeping on trying.

That he had no real purpose.

That it was in vain.

Jongin didn’t question her; he just accepted.

She had him sitting in the back row of the auditorium. He cried in despair, heartbroken, while everyone else was showing off their skills, letting themselves be known to the world, and getting the best dance scholarships. 

He sat there, unable to move, unable to run away, unable to feel. 

_Incompetent_. 

"Maybe next year." He promised.

But history repeated itself.

Again.

And again.

Until he started to believe he was useless.

Because he thought he could introduce his love to the world, he got rejected.

He thought they were unique. So in love, no one could even compare. 

"Maybe this isn't working between us," he said to her while looking in the mirror, then looking down at his bandaged feet. 

He tried his best at hiding the infinite bruises all over his body so no one would suspect a thing. 

Because Ballet was beautiful, delicate. She was supposed to be gentle, never rough, she couldn’t do such things.

She laughed at him, making Jongin feel silly.

It was his fault, after all, for everything he did wrong, for not trying better.

He had to keep trying, believe it would get better. With promises of kindness and love from Ballet, he could overcome anything. Jongin would be the best, just for her.

  
  


The last time he promised her he would succeed, he was given the cold shoulder.

It was his fault, by no means, to receive such treatment. He could not feel her warmth embracing him anymore and he was certain she felt the same, but she never said anything.

She couldn’t let him go even when Jongin begged her to.

In the end, when he tried to impress her and the world, he noticed she wasn’t there.

She left.

She finally abandoned him.

And he went back home alone. 

* * *

That night he found it hard to swallow, having found her waiting for him, staring back in disapproval.

She didn’t let him go, after all.

She wanted him to stay.

But Jongin wanted to leave.

In need of an escape, he ran to the bathroom, a million pills sliding down his throat in a hurry. He smiled back at her when his tongue went numb and his mouth started to burn. 

_You can’t leave me,_ she said minutes later, caressing Jongin’s back when he was emptying his stomach in the toilet.

There were screams, furniture flying away, neighbors knocking on the door insistently in the worst fight of their life.

_You will never escape._ She said again. But it was her who pushed him off; his body transpassing the window’s glass, even after Jongin pleaded her forgiveness through cries.

He always knew she was a liar, a two-faced traitor.

Jongin finally understood as his body hit the ground and darkness welcomed him with open arms.

Between broken bones and all the sirens and the sound of people who wondered what had happened, he’s more lucid than ever.

Between the gentle pressure of his lungs being crushed, he felt alive.

He could finally start living, as the light of his eyes faded away along with his dreams.

There he was. 

Unmoving.

Giving his last breath.

Saying goodbye to her...

As he found himself dancing with a passion he had missed so dearly, reacquainting with doing pirouettes here and there, sharply putting his now unblemished feet on the softest floor he’s ever felt. 

Never had he felt so free while doing chaîné, turning so hard and so fast as he no longer felt dizziness. 

No longer felt pain.

No longer felt guilt.

There was no room to question anything.

He accepted this peace for what it was, for what it meant.

If it signified to be disenthralled.


End file.
